Mia frowned at the questions. Until now, it had never occurred to her that she expected her lovers to read her mind. If she didn’t tell them what she liked and what she didn’t like, how would they know? And how could she balance that with not sounding bossy? Nobody liked to be micromanaged, especially not in bed.
Well, most people didn’t.
When he returned, she handed the paper to him. “You could design a whole study around this idea.”
He gave her a funny look as he set the plastic box down at the head of the bed. “Why are you still wearing clothes?”
Unwilling to pursue the reason behind his expression, she slid back into her role. “You didn’t ask me to take them off.”
He crossed his arms and lifted a brow.
She unbuttoned the tight shirt and shrugged out of it. The white lace demi-bra followed her skirt to the floor. “Are you going to undress?”
His smoldering gaze kept her pinned in place. She’d always giggled at descriptions of men with smoldering gazes, but now that she’d spent half a day in Kaelen’s crosshairs, she had learned not to discount the power of a good smolder.
Like her, he unbuttoned his shirt first. Unlike her, he made a conscious effort to seduce with his striptease. She had to lick her lips and swallow to avoid drooling over his broad shoulders and ripped abs.
His pants fell down his legs, revealing the cock she had so recently come to know so well. It sprang from his nest of curls, hard and ready for another round. When he finished, standing before her in nothing but a plaid tie, he stayed put and let her stare. She was too busy enjoying the sight of his body to be self-conscious about the intense way he studied her body.
After a few long moments full of unspoken lust passed, he climbed onto the bed, arranging the pillows behind him so he could sit up. “Come straddle me.”
Mia scrambled to obey. “Aren’t you going to take off your tie?”
“I’m going to use it as a blindfold in a little while. First, I want to see how you respond when you can see the toy.”
Unable to stop the analytical side of her brain, she pursed her lips. “Don’t you think you should do the blind test first? That way I’ll be more focused on giving you the data you want.”
He slipped the tie, which he had loosened to get out of his shirt, over his head and handed it to her. “Blindfold yourself. No peeking.”
Blindfolding oneself with a tie was easier said than done. The wider part had to go over her eyes, which made tying it a little challenging. Kaelen helped.
“Just sit there for now. I’m going to stimulate different parts of your body with the toys. I want you to feel free to give suggestions. I’m going to ask a lot of questions, but I’ll try to keep them simple.”
One hand closed over her breast. She felt his warmth, but even before her surgery, her breasts hadn’t been sensitive or responsive. He massaged it. Then he pinched and rolled her nipple. She held her breath and wished for him to move on. He played with both breasts for a few minutes before his hands dropped away.
When they returned, he pinched a nipple between his fingers and pulled it, stretching the skin to the point where she felt a little tingle. Something soft closed around it. When he let go, a heavy object hung from it. He jostled the end of the thing, and it began buzzing. She felt the vibrations, but they didn’t stimulate her sexually.
He did the same thing to the other one, but he didn’t elicit a different response.
“Are your breasts not sensitive, or am I doing something wrong?”
One of the reasons she liked having sex from behind was that men didn’t feel obligated to touch her breasts. Or if they did, they couldn’t see her lack of reaction. Add in spanking, and she had enough stimulation to make the lack of response from her breasts unnoticeable.
“They’ve never been sensitive. Even nipple clamps don’t do more than hurt.” Though he’d clamped something to her nipples, the fact they didn’t hurt made her think they couldn’t be nipple clamps. “I don’t know quite what you’ve done, but these don’t hurt.”
“They’re soft clamps, meant for pleasure, not pain. I have them tightened as far as they’ll go.”
“Sorry. You’d get farther attaching them to my clit.”
He cupped the sides of her face in his hands and feathered his lips across hers. “Don’t apologize, babe. Does it have to do with your scars? Do you want to talk about it?”
“No and no.” She wouldn’t get defensive about her breasts unless he pushed the issue. She wanted neither sympathy nor pity. It wasn’t like she’d survived breast cancer or anything life threatening like that. Next to what some women went through, her problem had been inconsequential.